


Homecoming

by silhouette (thiefless)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fix-It of Sorts, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thiefless/pseuds/silhouette
Summary: The infinity stones granted Tony his final wish: the chance to grow old with Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 214





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Well. Not sure I like this one, but I finally managed to finish it after procrastinating for months. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! :)

In the final moments of his life, Tony snapped his fingers, and made a wish.

In other words: he defeated the genocidal maniac, performed the ultimate sacrifice, and got the guy.

* * *

Tony had done it. He conquered time, absorbed the power of the infinity stones, deleted the genocidal maniac from history. 

Now... it was time to collect his reward: the chance to grow old with Peter.

The stones were delicate and precise. Sentient, in a way, too, as they read his mind in a manner so unlike the brutal mind-fuck he’d suffered at the hands of the nascent Wanda. One second Tony was dying in the ruins of the compound; the next, he was sitting on the Parkers’ couch eating one of the worst walnut date loaves he’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

Tony never imagined he would get to push the reset button on his life, on his relationships. He never imagined he would get to do the one thing in his life he never dared dream he could.

Because the thing was: Tony's life had been a shitshow ever since he could remember; one great big fiasco, flirting with disaster and ill-informed life choices, and doing his utmost to get fucked so he didn't have to deal with the consequences.

Consequences. Kissing Peter would have consequences. Good consequences, yes, but consequences that could only ever work in optimum conditions – short-term satisfaction, as it were; before Tony wrecked him beyond all recognition. Ramifications that hinged on Peter's hero-worship deflecting all of Tony's less-than-stellar traits, until the kid wised up and left.

But now...now Tony wanted all of those. The consequences and ramifications, and everything in between. He’d accept the bad – and, boy, would the fallout be spectacularly bad; he didn’t need to be the Bleecker Street magician to figure that one out – if it came with the good.

If it came with _Peter_.

“Can I get five minutes–” _five years_ –“alone with him?”

May acquiesced after a careful glance at her nephew, and Peter cheerfully accepted with star-struck glee.

The Fibonacci drumbeat of Tony’s heart skipped at the sight, and he rose from his place on the couch. 

Standing in Peter Parker's room, adorned with Iron Man bedsheets and _Star Wars_ memorabilia, and one poster in particular Tony was sure was meant to be of Tatooine but instead uncomfortably reminded him of another T-named planet, Tony did the one thing he vowed never to do, the one thing he swore he would never do.

Tony cradled the kid's gloriously alive head in his palms – scarred and callous in imperfect harmony – and kissed him.

You know, it was funny. Tony’d never taken much stock in the whole _time ceased to exist_ spiel he’d heard from countless unreliable sources over the years. It just seemed so implausible. Unreal. Absurd, even.

If that was the case, then why the hell was time frozen in subliminal fragments as Tony kissed Peter?

... That was, until Tony snapped back into reality.

Literally.

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered, high-pitched, doe-eyes wide and trained on Tony’s face, tracking every imperceptible movement. 

“Kid, I–” Tony started; pauses. For once in his life, words failed to appear. 

By the look of things, Peter wasn’t faring any better.

“What was. What did you–” Peter faltered, smacking a palm over his mouth to halt the steady stream of word vomit.

Meanwhile, Tony was ninety-nine percent certain he was staring at the kid like a love-sick puppy, utterly enthralled with his rambling after five years of perpetual silence and self-loathing. That probably didn't help matters. 

With that knowledge, Tony did his best to embody the part of a functioning adult, and took a step back. Immediately, the warmth of Peter vanished, and Tony's body _craved_. 

“I'm sorry, kid,” he muttered, hoarse. _For everything_. He mentally added unwanted romantic advances to the list.

“What was that?” Peter finally asked, eyes darting anywhere but at Tony.

Tony stepped further back, running his palms through his hair haphazardly, thoroughly musing it. “That’s a long story, kid.” He unceremoniously flopped onto Peter’s childhood bed. Nodding at Peter’s impressive _Star Wars_ collection, he added weakly, “And not one the Jedi would tell you.”

Peter shrugged, lips quirking at the reference, and he moved to the edge of the bed, apprehensive despite his bravado. “Tell me anyway,” he implored.

Tony obliged; his own particular brand of word vomit wrapped in self-loathing spewing from his lips. He let it all out: recruiting Peter, to Titan, to the misery of five years without his presence – and everything in between.

(Peter deserved everything in life. The least Tony could do was present him with the truth.)

The room was uncomfortably silent in the wake of Tony’s discordant info-dump, and, yeah, in hindsight, using crippling grief as a pick-up line perhaps wasn’t Tony's finest moment. Judging by the bemused expression pillowing Peter’s face, the kid felt the same.

Nonetheless, Tony finally mustered the courage to look at Peter. By some divine intervention, or trickery on the part of the stones, Peter _believed_ him. Nothing but raw honesty imbued the handsome features of the kid Tony would rip apart the universe for. Tony was nothing if not grateful.

“You did all that...” Peter chewed his lip. At some point during his monologue, Peter had shuffled closer, so close Tony could smell the cheap aftershave he was wearing. “For me?”

Tony nodded; mute.

Peter hedged closer, and Tony greedily drank in every inch as the proxemics between them grew slimmer and slimmer.

Then, a ghost of a request: “Can you kiss me?”

Tony blinked. “I can,” he said, slow and steady because that's how you win the race. “If you're willing.”

Peter's head had been bowed, deferential and submissive, and now it had arisen, brown eyes twinkling even in his state of nervousness. An impish grin painted around his features, skewing the smooth dusting of pink. 

“I am,” Peter said.

Tony started from there.

* * *

In the days that followed, Tony did more than kiss Peter.

Making love to Peter Parker was the greatest thing Tony'd ever done in his life, and it meant more to him than... anything. More than Stark Industries; more than Iron Man. Everything. Peter was everything. 

Tony defiled Peter's innocence, placed calloused hands on smooth, flawless skin. His weight dropped on Peter, and he crawled into Peter's skin; eyelashes fluttering against the swell of Tony's cheek. He ate his own name out of Peter's mouth – a bittersweet refrain. 

“Love you, kid,” he mouthed voicelessly, hot and wet, his lips tracing Peter's flesh with his confession.

* * *

May threatened permanent castration: “I’m a nurse, Stark. You do not want to test me.” Pepper almost ripped her hair out. Happy had a field day batting away power-hungry journalists.

“The sex is subpar,” Peter said in response to a particularly nosy reporter; flat. Tony almost spat out his drink. 

“Uh, excuse me. I want a refund,” Tony replied, pointing his finger at Peter. “Gotta transfer him back to the sugar baby store real quick.”

He caught the contagious grin shining on the kid's face, and kissed it.

* * *

Tony patched things up with the Avengers, managing to stop the horrible mess with the Accords before it grew untenable. His relationship with Cap suffered in the beginning – old wounds and all that – and Tony wasn't exactly pleasant around Barnes at first, but that was okay. Baby steps. 

Besides, Tony had Peter by his side every step of the way.

(They defeated Thanos first time round. Tony proposed immediately after.)

Eight years later, Tony was Peter's date to his high school reunion, and he delighted in the opportunity to show him off. By the time Tony turned sixty-seven, his own college reunion was rearing its head. On the plus side, he was finally able to return the favour, and Peter graced his side during his fiftieth anniversary of graduating MIT. Platypus was there too, recounting many a tale of their endeavours that had Peter captivated and Tony laughing at the memory.

* * *

All those years, decades, a lifetime worth of memories shared with Peter. 

All that life – and Tony's left arm did not tremble once.


End file.
